


Killer Queen

by Kaz3313



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Homophobia, M/M, Murder, Other, Pedophilia, Religion, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Religious Upbringing, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-18 21:40:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22900261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaz3313/pseuds/Kaz3313
Summary: Beez and their partner Crowley have been working on this Angel case for a while. All their leads go down dead ends and it appears the killer is always changing their rules.Little do they know the serial killer is right under their noses- And has the persona of a sweet bookshop owner![Human & Serial Killer AU: also posted on my tumblr]
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Hastur/Ligur (Good Omens)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 31





	1. Lolita

**Author's Note:**

> I will be adding tags as we go along so check each chapter for them! If it's major I'll put it in notes or the summary
> 
> Some Beelzebub/Gabriel but since it hasn't come up yet I won't tag it until later. Wanted to warn the people who don't like the ship
> 
> Hope you all enjoy 😊

"Pathetic," Beez wrinkling their nose took a long stare at the cold body sprawled on the pavement. He was already recognized as Frederick Helking, a man they had been hunting for over a decade. They'd found he was the director of multiple sexual films starring underaged actors, however until today he had hidden within London.

Beez wanted to feel some sort of fulfillment that the wretched man was brought to a stop but found that this ending left them cold.

"The sicko himself or the fact we weren't the ones to take him down?" Crowley, who'd sauntered up to his partner just seconds ago, asked. He always tended to do that, ask unnecessary questions. Sometimes for clarification, other times to hear answers he already knew but from a new voice.

Most found it rather annoying but Crowley knew what he was doing; he'd caught many a killer with his "pointless" questions.

"Yez," Beelzebub said, cursing their lisp. It tended to act up at times like this one. "I have a feeling thiz is our friend the Angel'z doing,".

"Thought we agreed we'd call 'em Stabbington," Crowley said. "Anyhow, guy doesn't even have the usual marks stabbington gives them."

"... no. No, just because you said the name once and I laughed doesn't mean I agreed he should be called that. It meant I was drunk and you said something mildly amusing. And your right, but I've noticied recently he hasn't been brand-"

"His dick," Both Crowley and Beez turned to their forensic guy, Hastur. He gave no more explanation and instead looked at them knowingly. Luckily, Ligur came up to translate.

"The victim was found with his penis branded. Same one the Angel uses,"

"Stabbington," Crowley incorrectly corrects.

"Pleazze ignore him. Were having a dizagreement and he is wrong,". Both Ligur and Hastur shrugged and continued on their way. "Why do I have a feeling thizz iz about the bookshop owner I hear about,"

"He just made a valid point; why call this guy an angel when-"

"You were discuzzing this case with a civilian?!"

"It's not like this guy isn't all over the news- anyway and I think angel, as a nickname, fits bookshop guy really well and-"

"I can't believe you. Only you, Crowley, would take the biggest serial killer in London's name and somehow relate it to your crush and also that you would so willy nilly talk about it with said crush. What if he started posting about it? Or better yet, what if he's involved?!"

"Come on Beez now you're just paranoid. He's asked me many times how to set certain things on his phone, I can hardly believe he would blast our case to his latest twitter followers. And I don't think sweet Mr. Fell has any connection to the case at hand,"

"Ugh, I hate when you use your logical brain when I'm pizzzed,"

"Drink, then continue this case in the morning?"

"...yeah, drink and we'll deal with this utter bullshit later."

Little did either know…

A. Z. Fell, tucked away in the depths of his dusty bookshop, smiled. He took out his list, that if some outsider would read they would think was simply a list of books. Afterall, every line held a different title. Most were classics and easily recognizable. Half of the list was checked off with blue or red ink. The blue was always a single line while the red was a mess of scribbles.

Mr. Fell took out his blue pen and put a single clean line through the next book on his list

Lolita

"Now, if that blasted man would get out of my way I could do the rest with ease," He mumbled taking a sip of his coco. His eyes trailed down till the end of his list; he prayed that by the end of this year all would be inked in blue.

Things, however, don't always go as planned.

*

"So... our new lead is in this pastry shop?" Beez questioned as they sat in one of the outside seats. They preferred outdoor to indoor, especially on cases.

This one especially, since The Angel had an intricate set of rules but sometimes it felt like he was contradicting himself. The only true pattern was a brand was always found, but even then they had four cases related to The Angel of unbranded people. One was in pieces and Hastur had pointed out that one of the pieces could've very easily been branded but u 

"Well, before he was killed, Hastur figured that it was by another blunt object, he was seen buying a muffin," 

"Alright, so Angel was at the pastry shop-"

"Stabbington,"

"Ugh, you really like this bookshop angel, don't you?"

" Beez you wouldn't understand, he's just- Hey, his bookshop is across from here," Crowley pointed to the sign that said A. Z. Fell & Co. He rose from his chair, heading toward the shop. 

"Crowley, you can't go talk to your crush right now," Beez insisted, already shaking their head.

"Well guess who buys pastries all the time, he could be a witness," Crowley was the kind of snake that could get his way while tying it to the case at hand. This proved helpful thirty percent of the time and just a waste the other seventy percent.

However, with this case, the Angel rarely left any leads which meant Beez would allow this without much hassle.

The Bookshop, called A. Z. Fell & Co, would never be a place Beez thought Crowley would willingly go. It looked dusty, smelled musty, and while they couldn’t see very well into the windows they could see all the clutter. It obviously hadn’t been renovated in decades. Crowley knocked onto the nice, old, wooden doors and the two awaited any response.

“Closed, as per the sig- Crowley! Oh my dear, it is so good to see you,” the bookshop angel opened the door and after the initial recognition gave a warm smile. Cheer radiated off of him.

Beez always analyzed a person before they introduced themselves, it saves a lot of trouble. The man definitely mirrored his establishment; a soft, cloud haired, old fashioned (in clothes, style, and posture but Beez knew not in mind), and intelligent person. Perfect for running a bookshop, though, if he so chose, would be well suited as a professor or librarian. His posture was impeccable but he didn’t hold himself as if towered over everyone.

“Good to see you too, angel, and look I brought a friend! This is detective Beez,” Crowley was more enthusiastic than usual but Beez scarcely rolled their eyes. No, they watched the bookshop owner, who’s his blue eyes trailed to see Beez and his body stiffened up. He began to rub his pinky ring with his other hand.

“ I am Aziraphale, owner of this shop. Crowley has told me so much about you, I thought he would tell me if he was bringing company. I’m afraid I didn’t prepare anything ahead of time, I hope you don’t view me as an awful host ” He gave a forced laugh but it had an abrupt end as it had an abrupt start. His eyes darted back to Crowley and he suppressed a pout and instead gave him a smile.

“Don’t worry, Aziraphale, I’m not here to stay long. Just to ask you about the bakery, and if you saw anything unusual.” 

“Of course, here come in. I have plenty of room for us to sit,” Almost immediately his nervousness vanished, as if it was a facade. Beez headed in, Crowley giddy beside them, but couldn’t feel at ease. Something did not bode well. 

*

He insisted on making them tea and when he hustled to the kitchen, and out of earshot, Beez leaned into their partner.

“Have you notizzed,” Beez asked, and based on Crowley’s brows furrowing together and his mouth twisting in a not-a-frown-but-not-smirk either showed he hadn’t.

“ What’s wrong?” Crowley asked, his voice a little louder than what they hoped.

“ He waz nervouz when he saw me,” Beez whispered hoping Crowley would catch on without them having to spell it out. Instead he got, irrationally, angry.

“Beez, people haven’t been nice to him his entire life, and I don’t think cops have been on his list of people he could always trust,” Crowley spits out.

“Shush! Voice down, idiot! He seemz real chummy with you, and we all know detectives are different from cops.”

“Don’t get nickpicky with me! And he’s “chummy” with me cause I sssaved him!” Crowley hissed, as often as Beez ‘buzzed’ he’d ‘hiss’. 

“You… saved him?” Beez couldn’t remember any case where Aziraphale was involved.

“There… remember Barrison?” 

How could one forget Barrison? He’d been an officer for five years and at first Beez only heard stupid little remarks. First it would be about their hair, then their lisp, if they’d found a ‘man yet’, and how ‘no one liked a girl who didn’t smile’. They made it explicitly clear that they were nowhere close to being a ‘girl’ or ‘women’ or whatever other term he used but Barrison hardly listened. It became more than little remarks when he started harassing Crowley for wearing a skirt. As much as Beez was annoyed when someone, purposely, misgendered them they found it much less tolerable when it happened to the people around them. He was a sleeze, and they were sure to remind everyone when he was at the scene or at their department. If his transphobia wasn’t enough, he was horridly homophobic and thought proudly annoancing annoying retoric in front of the forsensic departement was the best idea. Hastur had almost punched him right then and there. Beez tried to get him fired, or at least banned from their office.

He was finally arrested after he was busted for selling evidence but he was found to have many other crimes as well.

Most were assault and battery charges; Beez felt their blood curdle. 

“He- That asshole,” Beez said. It was so easy to picture now, so easy to play the scenario like a movie. It would’ve been dead of night and before the bookshop owner knew he’d be attacked. And if he recognized him as an officer, well he would understand there would be very little chance for justice. So, the kind (because based on what Crowley said, Aziraphale was kind and based) man just took the beating. That is, until Crowley showed up. 

“He was drunk as ever, no that that’s an excuse but made knocking him out a lot easier. Woke up, thought he’d just passed out, the prick. I found him right outside the shop, kicking a bloody heap. Can probably guess the rest,” Crowley said, he was still seething but not at Beez anymore. “I took Aziraphale inside, I told him that was the last straw. That he’d get justice.” 

The point was plain, the bookshop angel was a nervous wreck for reasons that Beez didn’t need to question. 

They knew that was a weakness and a strength of thiers. They always expected the worst out of the situation; have a nervous, possible witness, and suddenly he becomes a suspect. On the reverse, it’s easy to see the annoying sleazy coworker become an angry violent villain who only shows his true nature when he thinks there will be no consequences. 

“I- I won’t mention it again,” Beez said and gave his shoulder a squeeze. 

*

Back in the kitchen, the kettle almost boiling, Aziraphale listened on. Some of their voices were lost, which meant he’d check out the recordings later, but he understood the gist of the conversation.

Anthony, sweet Anthony, was somewhat right. He did naturally get nervous around strangers, especially because of what that horrid man did to him (he tried not to think of his scars but he failed. The one left from the attack haunted him just like the others from previous incidents. When he remembered the scenario he could also remember the pain-). And he knew the cops would come knocking at his door eventually (fate or perhaps it was Her plan, She had a funny sense of humor at times) but to be seen as a possible ally? Well, he may have detested decievers, but he’d be stupid not to take the chance. 

It was bittersweet, he thought as the kettle screamed, Crowley desperately trying to be a part of his life. He just hoped he wouldn’t get hurt- Aziraphale wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he did.

He poured the tea and closed his eyes in thought. He’d have to tread carefully moving forward but The Angel was nothing but careful; that’s why he hadn’t been caught. He was already thinking of a good way to get them poking in the wrong (well, in a way it was right) direction. Possibly an enemy could be taken down and The Angel wouldn’t even have to lift a finger. 

London, and therefore his world, would be safe; that’s all that mattered.


	2. Bookshops, Offices, and Eden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recheck the tags because I've added new ones! And if there is something I missed please let me know!

"Sorry the tea took so long, I overheard some disturbing news on the radio and it distracted me," Aziraphale apologized, setting down the tea set.

"What news, angel? Stocks go down again?" Crowley joked and Beez had half the mind to kick him under the table; going and calling this man angel. Not that it wasn't a good descriptor, the man's white curls and soft face made him look cherubic*. 

"No, someone was murdered and- Oh is that why you two are here? Are you investigating the case? I'm not sure if I'll be of much help..." Aziraphale took an anxious sip of tea, his eyes wide and full of worry.

"Yezz, you're quite perceptive Mr. Fell, " Beez took a pause, letting the man calm his nerves down with the tea. No use in a worried, possible, witness "Which is why we came here, the man went to the pastry shop that you frequent at," They began sifting through the files they brought with until they pulled out a photo.

“Did you see this man?” 

“I don’t believe so… What time did he come in? I was only there early in the morning,” He said, looking at the picture with a scrutinizing eye.

“Well, the receipt said he got the muffin at 4pm,” Crowley growled, they’d previously talked to everyone that worked there in the night and most hadn’t remembered much of the dead man beside him buying a muffin. Beez wanted to question them further but Crowley reminded them that it was a popular cafe and they rarely remembered anyone that wasn’t a regular. Now, however, they were left at a dead end. Which tended to happen with any case Angel was even suspected of being involved in.

“Ugh, that zztupid brilliant Angel!” Beez almost slammed their fist on the table, but decided that just shouting would be for the best. 

“Four o’clock?” Aziraphale tapped his near by book “I remember seeing a man leave the shop around that time.”

“You- You do? Thiz man?” They held up the photo again but Aziraphale shook his head.

“No, no, not that man. I mean, he obviously at some point left but this was someone different but he looked very… busy. He had the face of a man who had a lot to get done, I just remember him because… well he was, er, handsome. Perhaps he saw the victim?” He offered.

“It’z better than nothing… What did he look like?” Beez asked.

“Um, broad shouldered. Tall, I’d say about as tall as Crowley if I had to guess. Dark brown hair- Oh, and the most peculiar purple eyes. I think that's why I remembered him so well.” 

“So the bloke had contacts, sure they’re rare but I doubt we could find-”

“Gabriel,” Beez interrupted “Gabriel Arch, we went to the same school. I know where he works too, and he’d be willing to talk to us. Thank you, Aziraphale,” They got up quickly from their seat, banging the chair next to them.

For once in Crowley’s partnership he saw Beez unfocused. Saw something shock (or excite?) them and they let it show. Almost frantic to go. It was an odd change, and Crowley bit his lip. He trusted Beez with his life but it unsettled him to see them so different.

“Bye, angel, you’ve been helpful. And I’m not just saying that cause we took up your time and drank your tea, but cause you did,” Crowley saw the other smile, a good genuine one, for the first time this trip. His heart fluttered in his chest and he felt his own lips lift up.

“I’m so glad I could be of assistance. And I do hope you catch the killer soon, my dear.”

“Crowley! We're leaving! If you don’t hurry up I’ll be driving!” Beez called from the door and Crowley gave a small wave before he dashed to catch up. After all, he wasn’t letting Beez drive his car.

*

Aziraphale was proud of himself, he only had to lie once and it was a minor one. After all, he was hoping that they did catch a killer, just not the one who murdered Frederick Helking. 

If he continued playing his cards right, things were going to go smoothly. Maybe he could even let Anthony into his life; that would, truly, be the perfect dream.

However, he knew he shouldn’t dream. Nightmares were the only thing in store for people like himself…

He closed his eyes and sat back in his chair. His lip quivered and it took all his effort not to sob; he brought this unto himself, he just didn’t want Crowley to get involved. He didn’t deserve to be caught in this twisted mess.

But he couldn’t have his cake and eat it too. If Aziraphale wanted to have a future life with him he’d have to put him in a bit of danger. He just hopes he’ll be cautious with discoveries in his near future.

*

“So, Beez, you know this guy. When angel said he’s handsome, is he? I mean... like one to ten?” Crowley asked.

No, he wasn’t nervous, he was never nervous. He drove fast and wore modern clothes (and rarely his uniform because who would want to wear that) and- and- well everything about him was cool. Nervousness couldn’t penetrate his cool. Even if Aziraphale had called some Gabriel guy handsome, maybe it was only because he was far away. Yeah, people from a distance can look a lot different up close.

“He’z a jerk, so a zero,” Beez snapped. 

“But I mean appearance wise.”

“We’re about to meet him, make your own judgementz.” 

“Beez! Just tell me!” Crowley, in what one would call a daring move but he’d call a usual maneuver, waved his hands about leaving the grip of the steering wheel. 

“Why do you need to know?” 

“I need to know what I’m up against.” 

“You… Crowley, you idiot. He’s never going to meet this guy more than once and, no offense to Aziraphale, but Gabriel wouldn’t date him,” Beez resured, but with a tone most would call flat. Even so, Crowley knew not to take any offense.

“Really?”

“Really.”

*

“He looks like a prick,” Crowley commented, staring at the picture in the office building. Fear still laced his voice, irrational he knew. The guy looked like the kind who would lead someone like Aziraphale on and then break his heart. 

“I mean, he is one,” Beez tried to urge their partner away from the photograph.

They’d arrived in the building minutes ago and hadn’t been questioned yet. All they wanted was to get to Gabriel’s office with little fuss but Crowley was almost making this impossible. People already, clad in prestigious suits of white and grey passing by, gave the two strangers second glances.

“Handsome though…” Crowley grumbled, Beez could imagine his eyes narrowing despite them being hidden beneath sunglasses.

“You’re three times the man he is Crowley,” Beez gave him a reassuring pat “ Even when you’re not a man,” Now, that comment got a half smirk from him.

“A’ight Beez, I believe you.”

“Good, because if we don’t hurry up someone is going to stop us and I’d rather not cause a commotion.”

*

“Sorry, sister, if you don’t book ahead a time I can’t do anything. We have an openin’ for the fifth of June that I can put you down for, just cause I’m sweet like that.” 

The man at the front desk gave a toothy smile. He wore a baggy white shirt with no tie (Beez assumed was required at these kinds of jobs) and his white (dyed) hair was a mess. They weren’t sure how unkempt people could make their short hair, but it was worse than theirs. He also wore sunglasses inside, but from experience with Crowley they knew not to judge on that matter. Everything else though, was just proof he was so full of himself that he didn’t think he needed to put effort into anything, even into his appearance. Beez had scarcely been talking to him for more then ten minutes and already felt their blood pressure rise. Through the whole conversation he talked about his numerous titles, despite being stuck in a secretary position. He said he ‘wanted to change up the scenery from the fourth floor to the third’ but Beez just guessed he was demoted for his jabbering. 

Crowley was currently enthralled with a pendulum that swung marbles back and forth, so he was no help (In actuality, while he was fascinated by the pendulum, he decided it best not for him to talk to the front desk man. He’d already felt the need to punch him and thought it best to just ignore him).

“Not a Sizzter, Mr- '' They glanced at his name plate; they completely blocked out his name along with most things he said. It was a name that could've been pronounced the way it looked or a completely different unguessable way, so they decided on shortening it to save from this man correcting them. '' Mr. Met, and I know Gabriel personally,” A sound of a marble colliding with another was the only sound that gave knowledge their partner was near. On days like this, they wished he was the more serious type. He was much better at communicating with people.

“Well, if I let anyone in that said they knew a guy then we’d have stalkers,creeps, and hobo’s here,” Beez wanted to argue that the first two had already infiltrated the building long ago but bit their tongue instead. 

“Could you at least call him? Just say, Beez wants to talk to you, thatzz it.”

“Hmm, well I’ll do it this time… but this isn’t gonna be a habitual thing,” He pressed a few buttons on his desk phone before putting the receiver up to his head. 

“Yep, Gabe, It’s me the Mettatron, used to be representative of- Well now front- No, no not calling just to pass the time. Actually there’s someone who really really wants to see you- No appointments, I know, I know but I’m just here to pass their message. Said, Bees wants to talk to you. Not sure why bees want to talk or how they talk- Oh, a name alright. Yeah, I’ll send them right up. Nice talk Gabr- And he hung up on me, again,” Mettatron shrugged then said “He’s in Room Number 999 of the tenth floor. Just go to the right down the hallway and you’ll get to the elevator. Don’t forget your… friend.”

“Come on Crowley, tenth floor,” Beez said “Stop playing with that.” Crowley, begrudgingly, puts the object back on the desk.

“Wasn’t playing, was investigating,” Crowley insisted, as the two headed toward the elevator.

“Yep, sure. Did it tell you who Angel was?” 

“Stabbington… and no. But maybe with a little more interrogation.”

“Alright, he stabbed one guy. Angel, is what he signs with. Therefore his name is Angel,” They arrived in the elevator, and they thanked whoever might be listening. It was empty. Too many outsiders already knew more about the case than they prefered.

“But lately he didn’t even brand ‘em. I mean our newest guy, yeah, but our previous one? Nope,” Crowley pressed the tenth level button, top floor. “And the one before that one too.”

“ His handwriting was found on the scene though, ‘Get out of my Garden’. Still… still wondering what that means.”

“Well we checked all the gardens in the area, but honestly I think he means in a more abstract way. Like, he’s telling us to go cause we’re getting close to his “Eden”. Wherever he’s made base.”

“I forget, you actually know that biblical stuff. I did some research, obviously, but it’z nice to have someone with prior knowledge,” Beez shifted their weight, the elevator was slow for their taste. Or maybe it was just nerves. They hadn’t seen Gabriel since graduation; that was an interesting day. 

“That’s what Catholic School does to you, some things actually stick to your memory just to guilt you for the rest of your life. At least it might help some, with this case.”

“Hopefully… So Eden? Garden with Adam and Eve.”

“Yep, safe haven. Perfect place- only Garden I can think of that ties into his whole Angel thing.”

“But, there weren't any angels in the story, were there?” Beez asked, they had a basic understanding of biblical stories. However, they didn’t know most of the details.

“A Cherubim watched over the Garden. Guardian of sorts, had a flaming sword and was the one who was given orders to cast humanity out. That’s where people get it wrong- God was there, yes, but it was the angel who had to give them the boot. Oddly, I don’t think he was ever named.”

“Wow, Bible nerd,”

“You realize I had to take tests and make essays about this? It’s a wonder I’m not a nutjob... I always added the most obscure details just so I could one up on my classmates. Teachers hated dealing with me, but loved my assignments.Started giving me the hardest assignments, I didn’t care. Thought it was funny to write a twelve page paper on Mary Magdalene or a fifty slide powerpoint on the Apostle Mark and bore my class out of their minds but get an A on the entire thing,” Crowley said, as if he could pretend that each paper didn’t stab him a little in his soul. As if he could just cover all the pain with vague explanations. The work was alright but the pressure of everyone broke him. They expected him to do all these little projects and not question everything. 

“ You don’t have to talk about it, Crowley,” Beez said, the elevator dinged, signaling that they had finally arrived. They knew anything to do with his childhood and teenhood was a touchy subject. Especially his schooling, which from what he said when he was drunk sounded like torture. 

“If it can help the case-” Crowleystarted to argue.

“We may have found the last person who saw the victim besides the killer; that’s more help than an overlazation of what ‘Get out of my Garden’ means. I promise,” Beez insisted. “All we need is to connect it to the Angel, which we already have.”

Crowley gave them a sideways look, but he was smiling. It’d be alright.

All they had to do was talk to Gabriel and hope to get some sort of lead. And if they couldn’t work out anything? Well, they would be back to square one. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Mettatron is based on the one from the musical! 
> 
> Very dialogue heavy chapter so I hope you all enjoyed 😊 
> 
> I'm appreciating every comment and kudo! 💕


End file.
